


Call Waiting

by thelma_throwaway



Series: Office Suite [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, BDSM, Bisexuality all around, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, LDR, Long Distance Relationship, Multi, Office Sex, PWP, Phone Sex, Put down a towel, Remote Domming, Size Kink, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, Very dirty, WAP, Workplace AU, kiss me thru the phone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26145802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelma_throwaway/pseuds/thelma_throwaway
Summary: “..... ahhh damn, this is so weird.” Shikamaru grits his teeth and looks away. “Temari and I— but mostly Temari— wanted to know if... you want to join us.”Temari and Shikamaru are in a long distance relationship. Sakura is his officemate. Femdom ensues.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru, Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru/Temari, Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Series: Office Suite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916656
Comments: 33
Kudos: 107





	1. Accept/Decline

**Author's Note:**

> content note: this is very kinky and adult. please turn back if you are not both of those things! I guess if you’re a not kinky adult keep going 😛 join us. 
> 
> story contains: D/s (moreso than BDSM) dynamic both established and new, semi-public sex, mean and dirty talk, oral sex, sex by videochat, and a really excessive amount of moaning.

“You mind if I vid chat with Temari?”

Sakura enters the last few keystrokes of her work and looks up grinning. Shikamaru’s girlfriend is  _ fierce _ — hot, scary, domineering— not the kind of girl whose FaceTimes you ignore. 

“Don’t look so scared about it,” she teases.

He’d let a little about their sex life slip during a particularly drunken holiday party and she hasn’t really stopped thinking about it since. Even if she’s known Shikamaru for years, come up from the sales floor with him to management, learned to trust his hands-free approach and value him as a friend, she can’t shake the image of him bent over and stretched wide for his maniacal sexpot of a girlfriend. 

She retrieves her own phone from her desk drawer and frowns. “Asshole!”

“He cancelled?” Shikamaru smirks knowingly. “How many chances is that now?”

“The next to last one,” she sighs, nails clacking across the screen as she types a response. “As usual.”

He clucks and shakes his head. “ I know 10 guys off the top of my head who’d treat you better than Uchiha.” 

“Maybe I like being treated badly,” she scoffs, missing the pink blush that blossoms on his cheeks as she gathers up her things. “I’m done for the day anyway— say hi to Temari for me, have a good—“

“Um, actually…She wants to talk to you.”

“Me…?”

It’s not too hard to guess what’s coming. Shikamaru and Temari are long distance and see each other every few months, Sakura spends more time with him than without him in their cramped shared office. They can talk all day or comfortably not say a word to each other for hours, have met each other’s friends and romantic partners and even family. They drink on Fridays with the rest of the management team and go to each other’s parties. 

Plus the undeniable… chemistry, though the word makes her gag. It crackles unexpectedly at the strangest times and makes her want to either die of embarrassment or crawl across their desks and into his lap. She’s caught him staring before, too, and in a dim, liquor-scented memory she chooses not to investigate further, they’d once come  _ very _ close to crossing certain lines. 

In other words—- Temari probably wants to take the opportunity to tell her to leave her man the fuck  **alone** . 

“Yeah…” 

If she’s going to run it's too late, the candy sweet tones of the video ring have already ended with a silly  _ boiiyoing _ . 

“Shikamaru.” The voice is thick and silky and Sakura gulps. 

“Hey Tem.” Shikamaru rubs the back of his neck and looks away, meeting neither woman’s eye. 

“Is Sakura there?” She doesn’t  _ sound  _ angry, but Sakura’s heard her say some truly devastating things in that smooth tone.

“Uhh, yeah..” 

Sakura gives him one last inquisitive look and comes around the desk.

“Hi Temari.” She smiles sweetly and leans over Shikamaru’s shoulder to wave. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic.” Temari is seated in a dim room, illuminated by three candles flickering seductively next to her and a lamp draped in purple scarves. She’s wearing a deep aubergine silk robe that ends mid-thigh, her powerful legs taking up a good portion of the screen. Her blonde hair is loose and curly, her cat-eye impeccable, her grin unreadable. “You look so  _ cute _ , Sakura. Do you have a date?”

Sakura’s eyes bob down to her borderline work- appropriate skirt and sleeveless blouse, silk folds crisscrossing her chest so that when she leans forward enough you can see the pastel green bralette beneath it. The denim jacket draped over her arm and the grey pashmina she keep on the back of her chair had made it look decent for a Friday but without them she looks ready for a date and interested in putting out.

“I did but…” Shikamaru snorts and she smacks him across the back of the head. “Shut up, Nara! My date bailed on me.”

“What a shame.” Temari’s hand caresses her own cheek as if she’s comforting Sakura. 

“Don’t give her your pity, babe.” Shikamaru tips his head to the side and smirks with his eyes closed. “Once on accident, twice on purpose. Twenty five times…?”

“He’s busy!” 

“He’s a loser.”

Sakura realizes that if she’s trying to give the impression that she’s not inappropriately close with Temari’s boyfriend she’s probably doing a bad job. “Shut up. Anyway, nice to see you—”

“Sit.” Temari’s expression hasn’t changed. She’s still smiling, eyes bright and knowing and piercing even though she’s only a few inches tall in Shikamaru’s phone. Sakura feels like there’s a hand on her chest, soft with sharp nails, pressing her to obey and she pulls a chair close and sits. It’s so strange— the command, the obedient calm Temari’s voice invokes in her— that she knows something extraordinary is coming. 

“Um..” Sakura looks away, suddenly aware how close the line of her thigh is to Shikamaru. She can feel the heavy weave of his dress pants against her skin and it sends a flush to her stomach, followed unbidden by the image of the fabric sliding down over his hips. Shikamaru tenses but doesn’t move away.

“I didn’t mean for this to be so dramatic. Tell her, Shikamaru.”

It sounds like a command and his spine snaps straight like his body is responding to orders his brain won’t hear. 

“Jeez..”

“I said tell her.” Something shifts in Temari’s lap and Sakura swears she hears a soft, warning  _ thwap _ . 

“..... ahhh damn, this is so weird.” Shikamaru grits his teeth and looks away. “Temari and I— but  _ mostly  _ Temari— wanted to know if... you want to join us.”

Sakura shakes her head once. “What?”

“That was a horrible explanation.” Temari sips at a glass of wine and scowls at the camera. “ We want to play with you, Sakura.”

Shikamaru exhales exasperatedly. “That’s not any better!”

“No— um. I get it.” Sakura feels the blood rush to her thighs, a shot of adrenaline licking at her senses as she meets Temari’s look. The back of her neck prickles at the multitude of sensations the word suggests. 

“So? Do you want to play? We get a little rough.” 

Sakura smirks before she can stop herself and watches Shikamaru shrink in his seat. 

“What did he tell you.” Temari leans closer, silky robe shifting farther apart on her thighs, and Sakura can see she has a black leather riding crop in her lap.

“Well…” She wonders if she should tell the whole story--- it had been painful enough for Shikamaru the first time and he already looks like he’s going to crawl out of his skin. She kind of likes it. 

“Do you like to be choked? Slapped?” Temari’s tone is casual, but Shikamaru sees the telltale graze of one coffin-shaped nail along her thigh. He gulps and steals a glance at Sakura. She’s flushed, nibbling her lip, eyes slightly glassy. “Called a little whore?”

“Tem!” Shikamaru grabs for the phone but Sakura’s reassuring hand goes to his knee under the desk and he deflates, falling back in his chair with a sigh

“Did I say you could touch him yet?” Temari’s eyes are just a degree sharper, her tone one shade darker. Sakura’s hand flies away as if it’s been burnt. How could she tell? 

Sakura’s flushed even deeper, and her breathing is quick and fluttery. She won’t meet his eye. It’s 4:55 and people are streaming out of the office outside their door. Choji stops in the window, makes the sign for  _ lets get a drink _ but he just shakes his head. 

“Sorry.” 

Temari grins and leans closer to the camera. “Now you’re getting it. Answer my question, slut. Do you like to be handled rough?” 

“Yes.” Temari slaps the crop against her palm and Sakura starts, shifting in her seat. “ I like to be handled rough.” 

“I like to be handled rough… ?”

“Ma’am.” Sakura’s breath catches in her throat and Shikamaru makes a noise that’s halfway between a moan and growl. “I like to be handled rough, _ma’am_.”

“Good.” Temari lazily draws the crop down her own long throat, between her breasts, into her lap. “I know you want to fuck him. I don’t blame you. He’s got an infuriatingly huge cock.”

Shikamaru blushes and coughs. 

“Don’t be modest,” his girlfriend scoffs. “I noticed you don’t deny it, Sakura. You  _ do _ want to fuck him, right?” 

“I do…” Sakura’s eyes involuntarily slide to his lap and Shikamaru groans, palms twitching to cover himself. He’s already getting hard, belt buckle digging uncomfortably into him though he knows better than to make any sudden moves. 

It’ll only make it worse. And he knows whatever Temari is planning is already pretty bad. They’ve taken thirds before, and she’s let him dom her on special occasions, but he can tell by the impeccable set up she’s arranged, the way the camera has been settled just so, the way she’s running the clock until 5— it’s going to be a  _ ride _ .

“You  _ won’t _ fuck him,” Temari coos. She’s teasing at the silky material just barely keeping her in her robe. Even in a different time zone, her raw power comes through the little rectangle. Sakura’s totally hooked, he can tell by the diameter of her pupils and the way her fingers knead at her thighs through the wool of her skirt. Troublesome for him, if she’s willing to follow Temari’s rules. “Not until I say so anyway. And even then… I’ll be fucking him  _ with _ you. You’re like my fuck toy now, my remote control cocksleeve. Does that sound good to you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sakura’s eyeing the clock, the motion sensor lights flicking off one by one in the open office outside. It’s not strange to see the two managers in their shared office late on a Friday. Though they aren’t usually in there getting dominated by vidchat.

“Say it.” Temari lets her robe slide a little off her shoulder, revealing a creamy swell as she reaches for a pack of cigarettes. Shikamaru’s throat goes dry. He fucking  _ loves _ to see her smoke.

Sakura murmurs an agreement that she’s Temari’s cocksleeve.

“Louder.” Temari lights a cigarette and blows a languid smoke ring. Shikamaru feels his cock jump to attention and grits his teeth. 

“I’m your… cocksleeve.”

“And you’re going to do as I say?” 

Sakura turns even pinker. She’s not a total novice when it comes to kinky commands— her last boyfriend had been a freak on a leash in the literal sense. The way Temari already has her wrapped around her finger takes her breath away. She can feel her panties are soaked through and the blossom of wet is growing on the chair beneath her. Her heart thumps every time the palm-sized blonde recrosses her legs. Sakura has never done anything racier at work than entertaining a dirty day-dream (sometimes starring Shikamaru but generally having to do with Ino the receptionist) but she’s ready to strip down and bend over in the break room during lunch for Temari. The ticking of the clock above the door seems deafening. It’s 4:58. 

“I’m going to do anything you say.” 

Temari laughs and releases a plume of smoke. “I didn’t say  _ anything _ , fucktoy. But it’s good to know.”

Shikamaru coughs and gasps for the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Sakura had almost forgotten he was there, mesmerized as she is by the flicker of the candles on Temari’s thighs and the cruel, hypnotic edge of her voice. 

Temari  _ tsks _ and glowers, stubbing out her cigarette. “You’re so impatient, Shika. You’re ruining my moment here, don’t think I’ll forget it.”

He shivers and his cock grows harder, painfully restrained in his khakis. He chances a brush of his fingers against the hot bulge in his lap—- he’s already in trouble for interrupting anyway.

Temari refills her wine and rolls the glass across her throat. “Fine. If you want it so bad, Shikamaru, we can start now. But first you have to tell our cute little Sakura what you told me. What you’ve been thinking about doing to her?”

Shikamaru pales at the memory of how Temari had extracted his less-than-loyal fantasies. They’d agreed from the start that they’d be open, physically, but he’d never actually taken her up on it while they were apart. If she wanted to keep her pets in Suna that was just fine with him—- she’d half killed him the one time she’d ‘waited’ for him to visit. This particular interrogation had included rope and hot wax and the most startling orgasm of his life.

“Temari…don’t make me...” 

Sakura bites her lip and smirks. This must be part of the play, torturing Shikamaru. He’s so aloof, private with his feelings and reluctant to talk about personal problems. He hates conflict, interpersonal issues, and talking about anything that isn’t work, shogi, or a kung-fu movie. 

Admitting to a sex fantasy to the subjects face would be especially humiliating. And she’s pleased pink at the thought of having a front row seat. She looks at him expectantly with her head still bowed towards Temari, a ferocious glee at seeing him squirm threatening to break her submissive posture. 

“You’re really pushing it, Nara,” the blond scolds. “I might have to scrap my whole plan just to make sure you remember your place. You don’t want me to have to do that,  _ slave _ .”

He makes a noise like he’s been choked. 

“You can’t even  _ think  _ about touching your cock again until you tell her.” 

“Fine.” 

“Don’t look at me— look at her when you tell her.” 

With an exasperated sigh and a pained expression, Shikamaru shifts in his seat. There’s only a few inches between them now, and every point of contact from the swell of her calf brushing his pant leg to his bicep pressed against her shoulder, feels hot and electric. 

“Uhh.” He rubs at the back of his neck, peers at her sheepishly through his lashes. “I.. Uhh… I don’t know. I have this fantasy I guess where we um… you know, you're on your knees under the desk… while I talk to corporate on speaker phone.”

“That’s it?” Sakura giggles. “On the phone with who.”

“Tsunade.” His face goes red. “Mostly.”

She giggles again-- of course Shikamaru would choose their tyrannical, blonde grand-boss. He was so whipped.

“That’s not dirty enough for you?” Temari’s voice comes slick and dangerous through the tinny phone speaker. “It sounds like you have some ideas of your own.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but chokes on her words as Temari dips a tanned finger between her thighs. 

“I’m going to  _ make _ you tell me, Sakura. What you’ve been thinking about doing with my boyfriend. But not today.” With the other hand, Temari loosens the tie on her robe. “Is everyone else gone now?”

They nod in unison, trembling at her voice, aching for next command. 

“Good.” Temari lets the robe fall from her shoulders, pooling at her elbows to tease the full swathe of her bare breasts. The juncture of her thighs is in shadow but Sakura can see her wrist work and twist between them. Her pussy shudders at the sight and she lets out a little moan only Shikamaru can hear.

“Just tell us what to do,” he says exasperatedly. “Temari. Please.”

“Fine.” Temari scowls and brandishes her riding crop at the camera, still riding the roll of her fingers against her clit. “You’ll regret this, Nara. You  _ know _ I never forget disobedience. Take your cock out.”

Sakura half rises on shaky legs. “We should lock---”

“Sit down, cocksleeve.” Temari emphasizes her point with a slap of the crop against her leg. “Leave it.”

“Tem, we shouldn’t--” Shikamaru looks helplessly between the door and his girlfriend. They’re definitely the last ones here and there’s another hour until the cleaning room comes. Temari could have her fun but they’d both be fired if someone walked in on them. 

“What you  _ shouldn’t _ do is test me again.” Her tone is liquid poison and he almost cums from just how  _ mean _ she sounds. “Now take your cock out or I swear I will fly to Konoha tonight and torture you until you can’t walk.”

Shikamaru clears his throat and moves to unbuckle his pants. Sakura tears her eyes from Temari touching herself on the screen to watch him work himself free. He sighs from relief as he releases his swollen cock, infuriatingly long and thick just like Temari had promised, and Sakura moans as it springs from his boxers.

“You did a very bad job of explaining your fantasy,” Temari tuts, though there’s something breathless in her voice that wasn’t there before. “Tell Sakura what you imagine her doing down there on her knees.”

“You’re… fuck!... you’re sucking my dick, so fucking slow, while I give that stupid fucking biweekly report.” Shikamaru’s hands twitch against his thighs but he was only given permission to take it out, not touch it, and Temari  _ will _ tell him to put it back without him ever cumming if he’s not careful. Sakura grins. Now his glazed looks during their calls with corporate made a lot more sense. And why he tended to lose his train of thought when she chewed on a pen.

“Get on your knees, Sakura.” 

He raises a brow in her direction as if to say,  _ You can still run _ . She tilts her head to decline and slides from her chair, kicking it back towards her desk to give her more room. 

“Good girl,” Temari purrs. “Pick up the phone, Shika, and point it at her. I already know what your face looks like when I make you my fuckslave.”


	2. Remote Control

Shikamaru obeys with shaky hands, flipping the camera so he’s met with the double image of his throbbing, leaky cock looming above Sakura’s flushed face. Temari lets out an appreciative hum. “I like your blouse. It looks like the kind that doesn’t really close in the front, right? Shikamaru, show me Sakura’s tits.” 

He reaches out with a trembling hand, watching his fingers slip under the collar on the phone screen in an attempt to not burst into flames from embarrassment. This is beyond compromising, and for some reason he can’t help but feel like Sakura somehow has seniority in the situation. Like she’s collaboratively torturing him to death with Temari. 

He draws one side away and then the other, and Sakura tilts her head back with a moan as the air-conditioned air hits the hot skin of her chest. She was hoping to show the mint green balconette to Sasuke tonight but now it seems obvious that Temari deserves it more. Shikamaru likes it, too, judging by the droplet of cum that bubbles from his cock and drips down the head. Her tongue flicks between her lips involuntarily as if to catch it.

  
  


“Are her nipples hard, Shikamaru.”

He sighs.

“Feel them.” 

Shikamaru obliges, running the flat of a warm finger over one lace cup. “They’re hard.”   
  


“They’re hard…?”

“Lady Temari.” 

Sakura’s grin grows even wider as his face vacillates between embarrassment and arousal.

“Tell me what her tits feel like.” 

He slips his free hand into one of the cups, squeezing oh so slightly. Sakura draws back her shoulder to perk up her breasts and gives him an expectant look. 

“They’re… small.”

“Hey!”

“So smooth..but firm.” He gives another squeeze, harder, and emboldened by her moan rubs a rough thumb over her nipple. He smirks, sensing an upper hand as her coherence devolves. “Definantely not big enough to fuck, though.”

“I don’t believe I asked for your editorializing.” Temari moans and traces down her thighs with the crop. “I want to see the faces Sakura makes when she gets her tits tortured.”

He obeys again, pressing his fingers tighter by degrees into her warm flesh. Sakura whimpers and resettles on her knees, leaning into his touch. Her expression slides from pleases to pain and back again. Her eyes close and languidly reopen as he runs a dull nail across her nipple, lashes unfurling around hazy green eyes. 

“Haaaa,” Sakura gasps, her mouth bobbing open as her pulse quickens. 

“She  _ does _ like it rough,” Temari giggles.

“Yup.” Temari can’t see him so he doesn’t hide a hungry, spiralling stare deep into Sakura’s eyes, squeezing hard to make her squirm. “She was just telling me she likes to be treated like crap.” 

“Nnnnot what I meant.” Sakura bites her lip and looks up darkly at the camera. Shikamaru’s cock shivers just outside the frame and Temari laughs.

“It can be arranged.” Temari points wordlessly at her boyfriend and tugs at an imaginary collar on her neck, a reminder of who he belongs to. She can’t see him but knows the effect the move will elicit. “You always have such nice nails, Sakura Let me see that pretty manicure wrapped around his big fucking cock.”

The polish is mint green, too, and Shikamaru groans when her slim, cool fingers wrap around in. Temari laughs into her glass of wine. 

“Is he close? You’re so lame, Shikamaru.” 

“He’s leaking,” she giggles, turning him in her hand to examine him. He groans again and she rolls her knuckles once more, face innocent though the press of her fingertips is experimental. 

On the other side of the phone, Temari smiles suddenly and it makes him go cold. She leans back in her plush chair, knees falling to the side to reveal wet, pink folds and a dusting of blonde curls. She snakes the whip down her chest, rubbing a swirling circle around her navel down to her clit.

_ I’m so fucking lucky _ , Shikamaru manages to think, eyes nearly crossing as he tries to take in the image of his girlfriend in his palm, spread wide and teasing herself with her favorite weapon while she humiliates his fantasy into reality, and the hot, hard breathing form of Sakura on her knees in front of him, as if Temari has  _ made _ her appear.  _ I might die but I’m lucky as hell _ . 

Sakura hums impatiently and looks up with a question on her brow. He shakes his head,  _ don’t ask for anything.  _

“Give him a stroke, Sakura.” Temari leans out of frame, coming back with some heavy object wrapped in a black velvet scarf. She balances it across her thighs and pets her fingertips along the plush fabric. 

She’s keeping her balance on her knees but Sakura’s mind is swimming. She’s so turned on it’s hard to think, and Temari’s hypnotic, disembodied voice urging her on from the other side of the phone, exposing her, demanding the contents of her darker desires, makes her feel high. And then Shikamaru’s looking down like he doesn’t know whether he wants to devour her or cover his face in shame, maybe both at the same time. She’s reading the slight twitches in his brow, the quirk of his lips, the tension in his throat, just like she does through contentious meetings and late nights at work. 

He catches her appraising look and exhales silently, tilting his head down in a familiar gesture of exasperated surrender.  _ Good _ , she thinks as she ripples her palms along his cock.  _ At least we’re still friends so far.  _

Shikamaru hisses, throwing his head back and shimmying in his seat to readjust in her grip. 

“Pathetic.” Temari slips a hand under the fabric folds in her lap. “We’ve barely started.”

“It’s —nn— been a while.”

Temari sighs and draws the fabric apart with a long nail, draping each corner carefully along her bare skin. 

“Have you ever taken something this big? You’re so little Sakura. I feel like we could break you in half.” 

Sakura moans wistfully at the thought but it turns into a grin when a reply finally materializes on her tongue. “I’ve seen bigger.”

Shikamaru makes a sound deep in his chest and flexes up between her hands.

“Lucky,” Temari fakes a deep sigh. From her lap she lifts an enormous dildo just for Shikamaru to see, as long as his forearm and as wide as his fist. She shakes it suggestively, tucks the base between her thighs so she can caress it and lick at the head while he squirms. “Keep stroking. Is this what you imagined?” 

“Ahhh I already… fuck… I already said it .” Sakura strokes him again, firm and slow, thumb swirling around his sticky tip and wetting the underside of his cock with precum. It’s enough to drip through her fingers. She repeats the motion and he moans. His eyes happen to roll past the clock on their way towards the back of his skull. It's 5:13.

“Take him in your mouth,” Temari commands, still working the toy like it’s his cock-- like it's  _ her _ cock. “Just the tip.”

Sakura obeys and he has to cover his own mouth, cheeks and ears aflame in embarrassment, to stifle the feral noise he makes at the first touch of her wet tongue. Her mouth is so warm and slick, and she looks downright adorable just sucking on the tip of his dick like a lollipop.

“You’re so cute, cocksleeve,” Temari coos, rolling her hips against the dildo nestled between her legs. Her tits swing free of her robe, slapping against the silicone. “Is this  _ all _ you wanted, Shikamaru? She’s on her knees and your cock is in her mouth.”

“No, I want… more.”

“More? Like what. A little tongue?”

“I want to fill her throat.” His eyes go suddenly fierce, and he looks down at her like he’s making a great effort to hold back. She’s never seen him look so determined. “Fuck her throat. Make her gag and fucking slobber all over me.”

Sakura moans and lets a trickle of spit leak between her lips and down his cock. She’s never heard him curse and talk so frankly about sex. And it’s all in his  _ I’m actually your boss _ voice, that one that’s always sent shivers up her spine. It sounds like being held by the back of the neck. 

“Let me see that tongue,” Temari demands and Sakura slides her tongue down the underside of Shikamaru’s cock, straining to make sure her new mistress can see. “You want to suck my boyfriend off, slut?”

Sakura nods, sending a jolt of unbearable pleasure through him as the firm tip of her tongue grazes down the thick vein running up him.

“Are you going to let him use your mouth? Fill your throat with cum?” 

She nods again, taking him just slightly deeper this time and he moans. 

“Fucking dirty whore. You should know by now Shikamaru belongs to me. Are you fucking stupid or something?” Temari’s still calm voiced but her skin is flushed red. She pauses her tirade to slide the massive silicone cock deep into her throat, eyes never leaving the camera, leaving Shikamaru, he knew. She could see Sakura and he could see her, the bewitching look was for him, as was the string of spit that stretches from her lips to the tip of toy. It was overload— watching her fuck herself would be enough but she’d insisted on Sakura today, too. “Did you think you could just sit across from him all day long, rubbing your clit, fantasizing about someone else’s man? I fucking own his ass. Isn’t that right Shika?”

Sakura and Shikamaru both moan apologetically. 

“Yes, Lady Temari,” he growls through grit teeth. “You own my ass.”

“Make her look at me.”

Shikamaru buries a rough hand in Sakura’s hair and turns her head around his cock to stare into the camera. The two sets hazy, blown out green eyes, expression questioning as if to ask  _ why has the face fucking stopped? _

“Am I right, cocksleeve? Do you sit there and think about him bending you over the conference table?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she admits around his cock, because it’s true and she gets the sense that lying is not an option with Temari.

“Have you ever made yourself cum thinking about him? Used those pretty little fingers to fuck to yourself like it’s him?”

Sakura nods again, a little more sheepishly.

Temari smiles predatorily. “At work?”

“Uhhmm.” Sakura has to look away in embarrassment. She’d brought herself to a guilty desperate orgasm against the wall in a single bathroom the day the A/C had gone out. She’d sat in their sweltering office, watching him peel off damp layers until his was sitting in his undershirt, droplets of sweat running down his throat and disappearing into the neat arrangement of muscles on his chest. For a moment she imagined being a bead of sweat running over his chest, his abs, his hips… and then excused herself to the bathroom. 

“I want to make sure you understand.” Hand over hand , Temari positions the massive toy to tease at her entrance, running the distended head against her clit, circling her pussy, writhing at the sensation. “This is not blanket permission to touch my fuckslave, Sakura. If you don’t follow my instructions to the letter, I’m going to come over there and kick your ass for even thinking about my man. But if you’re good I’ll let you play with him as long as it pleases me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Shikamaru.” Temari lets the heavy silicone tip rest just barely pressed against her, poised to push in. “Tell her what to call me and then you may take her mouth.”

She feels his nails scramble against her scalp as his grip tightens. He looks confused, ashamed, aroused, ravenous. It’s Temari’s commands but his hands, his cock, his minty breath against her cheek. Are they both her victims? Her puppets? It’s just like Temari had said— remote control in every sense of the phrase. She searches his look for a spark of clear headed complicity but all she sees is guilty pleasure.

On the other side of the phone, Temari winks one last time, one palm caressing her breast while the other holds the base of the dildo in place, poised between her thighs.

“Call her…” He presses down on the back of her head, plugging a little gasp deep in her throat and Temari slides down on her toy in time with Sakura’s lips on his cock. The blondes eyes roll back, stretched wide by the thick silicone, as Sakura gags appreciatively. Shikamaru shudders and moans. “Lady Temari.”


	3. Operating Instructions

His eyes cross again— it  _ can’t _ be real. It’s too hot, too gratifyingly, gratuitously filthy to be true. On the screen in his hand, his girlfriend is splitting herself with the only piece he’s ever seen larger than his own. It’s his very secret hang up, big as he is, to be the  _ biggest _ . She’s orchestrated everything perfectly— the time of day, his oppressively small and vulnerable office, his secret crush, the fantasy she’d extracted from him when he’d admitted he hadn’t seen anyone at all since she’d moved away. The giant toy. Down to the velvet cloth and her wicked tongue, sharp as a scalpel, cutting deep into every bruise of hidden desire in him. 

And then— as if he could forget— at his feet is Sakura. Fiery, clever, reliable Sakura, his only ally in the assbackward corporate hellhole they’ve both given their young lives to. 

He knew she was adventurous the day she’d cracked an offhand joke about getting choked. To his private dismay, Kiba had confirmed it after their break up with a meandering joke about  _ gag orders _ . 

Now she’s choking on his cock, looking up at him so prettily behind tear studded lashes. He’d expected her to sass and struggle against Temari but instead she’d settled right into subspace. She’s somewhere else— somewhere he’s going too, though he gasps against Temari’s control to the last, just like always. 

What’s in front of him on her knees is Sakura in her most present, perfectly aware form— driven by sensation, suggestion, no thought forming that isn’t about the next moment, the next movement. She’s fucking stunning and he can’t even tell her. Temari really would fly out here and beat them both to painful ecstasy. 

Instead he drives her down harder on his cock and Temari responds by pressing down on the toy, candles flickering off the molded veins as it disappears deeper inside. Sakura chokes and sobs, mouth stretched to its limit, but her pinky rubbing minute circles on his knee just out of frame confirms she’s having a good time. 

“Closer,” Temari gasps and Shikamaru readjusts the camera angle to capture Sakura’s profile, drool pooling on her cheeks and chin. “Again.”

He pulls Sakura off him by a fistful of hair and drives her back down, eyes glazed as Temari mimics the movement on her own toy. She shivers and moans.

“Is it too big?” Temari works herself how and down, long nails ghosting over her clit. “Can you take it?”

Sakura nods and Shikamaru curses when the head of his cock slides across the firm roof of her mouth.

Temari wriggles down further on the silicone shaft. She lets her tongue loll out dramatically, eyes rolling back in her head. “You said you’ve had  _ mmmm _ bigger, Sakura?”

“A  _ real  _ one,” Shikamaru sneers and works her up and down until she’s choking and moaning again. “Not some plastic monster piece of crap.” 

She quirks her head to the side as if in thought, teeth dragging up one side of his shaft, before shaking it her head, humming her  _ no _ around him and sending a hot thrum across his lap.

“That’s what I thought,” he growls. Temari frowns and with one savage movement, slams the toy as far into her as it’ll go, crying out. With some effort, mewling and groaning as she goes, Temari bends her knees and lefts her heels to settle on the seat, splaying herself even wider. She’s stretched to her limit too, and the sight of her pussy gaping wide to accommodate the ridiculous toy, laid over the image of Sakura, lips straining painfully around him pushes him dangerously close.

“Tem, please,” he huffs, drawing Sakura off him for a moment of relief of the cool air and her hot breath are even more tantalizing and he drives back into her with a moan. “ I’m sorry— please let me…”

“What did you say, slave?” Temari stops the rotation of her hips and sneers savagely at the camera. “What did you fucking call me?”

“I—“

“You disappoint me Shikamaru,” she snarls. “Can’t even keep your cock hard long enough for me to get off and now you’re forgetting your place.”

“Fff—-fuck!—forgive m-mee Lady Temari.” 

“Sakura,” she purrs, ignoring him. “How do you like my boyfriend's cock? Does it taste good?”

“Yes, Lady Temari.” She answers around the head of his cock, laving the head with maddeningly slow licks. She hasn’t received any specific instructions but she can tell the closer she can tease Shikamaru to orgasm the more pleased her mistress will be. 

“Are you a happy cocksleeve?” 

“Yes, Lady Temari.”. 

“Good, because that’s all you fucking are,” Temari says sweetly. She’s close too, the subtle circles she’s working around the giant shaft edging her closer and closer as she works it slowly in and out of her. “You’re just something warm and wet for him to stick his cock in while he thinks about me. Are you enjoying it, slut? Being a fuck hole?” 

Sakura locks eyes with Shikamaru, and he’s struck by how clear they seem to be even as he spirals farther from coherence.

“Yes I am Lady Temari,” she says breathlessly, holding his stare. “I fucking love being your fuck hole.” 

Temari squeals and gasps and grinds down. “Ooooh I just  _ love  _ that you know you’re  _ my _ fuckhole. My idiot boyfriend can’t take care of his own needs. Then when he gets here he’s totally useless— cums twice and wants to fucking cuddle.”

Shikamaru grimaces.

“Sakura’s your new sex toy,” Temari says haughtily, breath hitching on every word. “But you can only use her when I say so, got it?”

“Yes! Fuck— fuck, yes Lady Temari I won’t use her unless you tell me to.”

“And you, cocksleeve, you know that your batteries don’t fucking work unless I say so?”

“Yes, Lady Temari.” A mouthful of spit and precum dribbles between her lifts and down his shaft.

“Because if you touch him without my permission, I’ll just have to assume you’re trying to take him. And you  _ won’t _ like what I do to dumb little sluts who try and take what’s mine.” 

“No, Lady Temari.” There’s an edge of true fear in Sakura’s moans. It’s probably a good thing.

“Good. Then we all understand the rules here.” She draws the dildo out of her, laughs and moans mingled with the lascivious, wet sounds of her pussy releasing the toy. “Shikamaru, I want her to see me.”

A spike of disappointment cuts through his fog. He isn’t going to get to watch her cum. Sakura is. It makes him a little angry and he bucks hard between her lips. 

Nevertheless he reconfigures the phone again so the two women can see each other for the first time since Sakura slid to the floor. She moans jealously at the sight of Temari’s massive toy teasing at her red, slick opening. 

“If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you try it next time

I visit. How much can you take from behind?” Temari. “Play with your tits.”

Sakura obeys and doesn’t bother to respond. She already knows that she’ll take however much Temari gives her. Her hands grab and knead at her breasts like she’s become feral.

“Watch me,” she commands, and Sakura stays frozen as Temari works the long shaft deeper and deeper. She moans and hisses and spits insults. “You can’t just  _ take _ Shikamaru’s cock, you dumb little whore. He’s perfect and massive and soooo— uhmnn— fucking good at  _ using _ it.”

Shikamaru blushes despite the debauchery he’s already committed. She’s never been so complimentary before, and it’s exactly what he needs to hear after watching her fuck herself in half on an impossibly large substitute. 

“You’re going to have to—uhnnf—  _ practice _ ,” Temari finishes with a snarl. She catches her breath, leaving the toy fully seated in her, then cries out and gasps, “Fuck her face now, babe?”

He growls and agrees, holding hair from her face with one hand, the other curled at the base of her skull. 

“Look at me when you suck  _ my _ cock, fucktoy.” 

Sakura’s response is a strangled gasp, spit frothing on her lips and dripping down his length as he pumps her. Sakura hollows her cheeks, tongue lashing against the head, along the shaft, whatever she can catch. Soon she just lets go, falling into the punishing pace the couple is setting, Temari with her toy and Shikamaru with  _ her.  _ A fresh shiver of desire shakes her when she realizes that she  _ feels _ like a fucktoy, something meant to serve and please and use, and she already wants more. Temari can use her however she wants to. She can’t tell if Shikamaru is accomplice or victim. Maybe its both. 

Sakura takes as much as she can in her throat and wraps both hands around the base of his shaft. She’s delirious with adrenaline and furious that this stunning cock has been sitting three feet away this whole time. Shikamaru is fighting to keep his eyes open but gives her an encouraging grin. 

“You can’t even get him all the way in your throat?” Temari sneers. “The first time I fucked Shikamaru I swallowed him right down to the fucking base. You’re going to need a  _ lot _ more training. And I swear I already fucking told you--  _ look at me _ ,  _ slut _ .”

Sakura’s eyes snap back to the screen as if she’s been slapped hard. Temari is writhing, rubbing her thighs, her clit, her breasts, her throat, moaning and gasping. A needy, jealous, crazed sound vibrates along her throat and Shikamaru curses and sinks her down roughly. He doesn’t dare make a noise but the arch of his brow says  _ do it again _ . Sakura obliges and he lets out a gasping laugh. 

“Fuck.”

“Take it out,” Temari sneers and the pair on the other side of the phone moan in protest. “What was that? Do I have to keep you two fucktoys in separate drawers?”

Shikamaru obeys swiftly under the threat, pulling Sakura off him with a wet pop, holding her aloft by a fistful of pink hair. She pants and gasps to catch her breath, eyes darting between his glistening cock in front of her and Temari writhing and cursing on the screen as if her brain can’t decide what to look at first. Her face is flushed, pink strands wet with sweat and spit sticking to her cheeks. 

He wants to push them away gently, make her smile, remind her that it's still  _ him _ , but there’s no way Temari will allow it. She happens to glance up to meet his soft look, glassy eyed, and gives him a wild, debauched smile before letting her tongue tease between her swollen lips, flicking like it wants to back around him. He sighs and she pinches the underside of his thigh and he sticks his tongue out at her.  _ Still friends _ , she thinks again. 

“Pleeease my I have your cock again, Lady Temari?” Sakura whines, a mischievous grin cracking her face.

“Hmmm, maybe.” Temari leans forward to pick up the phone from its perch. She angles it so Sakura can see her bare tits and stretched pussy from above, bored expression on a flushed face, her eyes fluttering ever so often in ecstasy. “Remind me why I should let you taste that gorgeous cock, again?”


	4. Performance Review

Sakura shifts on her thighs. She’s been ignoring the growing ache between them, the slickness causing them to slide against each other, rolling her clit oh so gently against its hood with every movement.

All she’s thought about for the last half hour has been Shika’s dick and Temari’s voice and the tugging at her hair that seems to come through the phone instead of from the man whose lap she’s been face down in all afternoon. Without the warm, salty, almost-too-big distraction in her throat she’s suddenly painfully aware at how aroused she is. And she sincerely doubts she’ll be allowed to touch herself. It's still not clear if Shikamaru is even going to cum. 

“I’m your cocksleeve. I’m here to be fucked and filled. I need to be shown my place.”

“ _Very_ good.” Temari’s shaking now, clinging to coherence as her hips roll and buck around her toy. “Very good reasoning, slut. Fucked and filled is all you’re good for. Not even fucking smart enough to lockdown your own cock you have to take mine, stupid whore.”

He doesn’t know how she can _talk_ , so mean and clever, when she’s like this but when Temari starts to ride her own orgasm like this it’s like she’s struck by divine inspiration. Somehow she knows just what to say-- Sakura’s eyes flash at the reference to her cancelled date and she bites her lip, eyes raking over Shikamaru stretched out above her. He smirks and licks his lips and it looks like a promise.

“Go ahead and mark my fucktoy for me, Shikamaru.”

He rubs the tip of his cock, only slightly smaller than her own fist, over her cheeks and mouth and forehead, ending with a sticky, deceptively gentle slap with the broadside of the shaft. 

“Don’t wash your face until you get home tonight, cocksleeve. Even if you end up seeing whatshisname-- you’re so fucking thirsty I bet you’d still fuck him if he called.”

Sakura lets out a desperate gasp. It's so filthy and embarrassing and _true_. She’d forgotten all about Sasuke but now she kind of likes the idea of getting taken from behind with Shikamaru’s cum dried on her cheeks. “Yes, Lady Temari.”

“Yes you won’t wash your face or yes you’d still fuck him.”

“Both,” Shikamaru snorts, letting his cock spring from his palm to smack against her cheek again, harder this time.

“Don’t sound so pleased,” Temari snarls, but the rest of her thought is lost in a wild cry. “Put her back on your cock _now_.”

In a split second, he’s maneuvered Sakura back on to him and is pumping up slow and hard between her lips.

“I’m going to cum now,” Temari moans. “And Shikamaru is, too. I want you to take _every. Last. Drop_. Do you hear me? But don’t you dare swallow until I say so. ”

Sakura nods and Shikamaru groans, feeling his balls shiver with the first signs of release. In his fantasy, she drinks him down just as they wrap up the meeting, gagging down his load as he gives his apologies for her absence again. Then she simply wipes her lips and returns to her desk as if nothing ever happened.

Now that he has her, though, he’d prefer to spray Sakura down, ruin her completely for the night. He wants her to drive home, tits out, slick with his semen. He particularly likes the image of her riding her fingers with her eyes closed, oblivious to Sasuke’s calls as she fucks herself to the memory of Temari’s commands and his cock. Next time-- there’s no _way_ he’s disobeying Temari when release is so close.

He can’t see her but he knows the sound of his girlfriend, his gorgeous, genius, frightening, savagely loving girlfriend, coming undone. Shikamaru draws Sakura off of him, leaving only the tip in her mouth and starts stroking long and slow and Temari screams and curses on the other side of the phone. Nows its Sakura’s turn to cross her eyes, bewitched by the image of her new mistress shaking and squirting, while still trying to fully appreciate Shikamaru’s glistening, achingly hard cock in front of her. 

Her attention darts from the wet skin in front of her to his face, a quizzical look on her brow as his pumping slows. He wants to explain that he _can’t_ , not until Temari says so.

“ _Ffuuuckkk_. Fuck.” Temari’s sighing and laughing as she comes down from her peak. There’s the clink of her wine glass and the sound of a lighter flicking. “Fuck. I like this game. Shikamaru--- are you close?”

“Y-yesss, Lady Temari.”

“And who do you have to thank for this orgasm?”

“Y--you, Lady Temari.” _Fuck_ , he’s not going to last. Sakura is giggling around the head of his cock, teasing her tongue around the head. “I’m your--- _shit_ \--- I’m your slave, Lady Temari.”

“Good boy,” she coos. “You’re such a good boy, Shika. That’s why I wanted to get you a little fucktoy. Do you like it?”

He grits his teeth as Sakura bats her lashes. “Yes, thank you, Lady Temari.”

“Just remember if you play with it without permission I’ll have to take it away.” He shakes his head adamantly even though she can’t see him, tries to think of anything to stop himself from cumming just from the promise that he’ll be allowed to slide his cock into Sakura again. “Don’t worry Sakura, I’ll keep you. You’re _so good_ at following my rules. I just won’t let my idiot boyfriend touch you. I’ll fly you out to Suna so he can watch us.”

“Mmmm.” Sakura grins. “I want to be fucked and filled by Lady Temari, too.”

“I’m not going to fill you, I’m going to turn you inside-fucking-out,” Temari growls and Sakura’s thighs clench at the promise.

She’s known instinctively that she isn’t to touch herself and now she’s calculating how long it’ll take to get home. Would anyone notice if she rubbed one out in the parking garage? Would Shika sit and watch her while she did? 

“Another day. Shikamaru, cum for me _now_ , I have a date tonight.”

He strokes himself once, twice more--- hard, with the prickling jealousy of knowing one of her pets is at the door, just waiting for her to finish with them-- before spilling with a stifled yell into Sakura’s mouth. She laps at the stream, cheeks puffing out to keep from swallowing his load. He hasn’t cum like this in months. He laughs gruffly at the look of concentration on her face as the wind leaves his lungs. Shikamaru’s cock twitches once more and he slides down in his chair, palm resting for a fleeting moment against her cheek in praise.

“Open up, Sakura,” Temari says sweetly and the younger woman obeys with a proud smile, revealing the sticky puddle in her mouth. “There we go.. look at all of it! This is exactly why you need a toy, Shika. It's not good to walk around like that. Stand up now, cocksleeve.”

Sakura rises shakily to her feet and Shikamaru lays the phone facedown on his stomach so Temari can still see them as he helps her up. His officemate is flushed and blotchy, a mouthful of cum brimming behind swollen lips, thighs trembling. Her cheeks still glisten with spit and the precum he’d smeared across them, pink strands pasted to her neck. Her tits are still out and there’s a sheen of sweat on her chest wetting the green lace. Her eyes are barely focused but she waits for Temari’s next command.

In other words-- she looks perfect.

“Open, Shikamaru.”

His mouth drops open more out of surprise than anything else.

“Whose load is in Sakura’s mouth right now?”

“Yours, Lady Temari.”

“But it came out of your cock-- is it still mine?”

“Yes, Lady Temari.” Shikamaru winces as his cock starts to rise again. “My cock belongs to you, my cum belongs to you.”

“That’s right-- _uhnnff_.” There’s a wet sound from his phone like she’s dislodged the silicone cock from herself. “I can’t really see but give him my cum, Sakura.”

Sakura leans forward, thighs sliding up his waist and Temari growls approvingly as the camera zooms in close to her breasts. She laces one shaking hand in Shikamaru’s spiky ponytail, the other goes to his chin, drawing it down a little farther before releasing a thin stream of spit and cum into his mouth. He gags and coughs a little but doesn’t move, entranced by the serene look on Sakura’s face. When her mouth is empty, she dips her tongue down to meet his to dab the last drop away.

“Did he swallow it all, Sakura?”

“Yes, Lady Temari.” Her hand hasn’t released his hair, and her eyes roll over him like she’s seeing him for the first time. “It was _so much_ and he swallowed it _all_.”

Temari giggles and it sends a shiver through both of them. “Let me see you both. You can sit on his lap, Sakura. You’ve been there since 5.”

With something like regret in her eyes, Sakura releases his head and picks up the phone as she slides off of him and turns, resettling with her ass pressing his fast hardening cock against his stomach. He feels the warm, wet patch against his thigh and smirks. She adjusts the camera so they can both be seen, a blush passing over her cheeks at the sight of herself perched on her friend's lap. Shikamaru looks like a man who's just cum hard. His large palms settle on her hips and she has to do everything in her power not to roll her hips into him. 

“Did you have fun, Sakura? You’ll play with us again? You don’t have to call me Lady now that we’re done.” Temari has closed her robe and reset her room. Besides the shining, foot long dildo standing up right at her feet there’s no evidence that she’s spent the last hour domming them out. Sakura’s head spins as the sounds and sensations catch up to her, the memory of what she had reveled in being called. 

Slut, whore, cocksleeve, fucktoy. She wants to hear them again, wants to know what Temari would command Shika to do to her pussy, her ass. _How much can you take from behind?_ she’d asked. 

“Yes, I _definitely_ want to play again.”

Temari laughs. “So eager!”

“She’s fucking soaked,” Shikamaru snorts. “She’s leaving a puddle on my pants right now.”

“Shut up, Shika.” Sakura’s hands itch to close her blouse, to slap him across the back of the head. To go right to the pretending that must proceed playing again.

“You’re a good playmate. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

There’s a soft knock and Sakura nearly hits the ceiling in fright, but it's coming from Temari’s end and she scowls off screen. Shikamaru grins--- clearly her little pet isn’t well trained. 

“Ugh. I have to go show this little freak how to show some respect, but I’ll see you both soon.” Temari turns to the phone and smiles genuinely. “I really did have a good time, Sakura. Love you, babe!”

“Love ya, Temi.” She smiles and blows a kiss and the video ends. 

They both let out their breath, Sakura sagging in his lap, and listen to the tick of the clock. 5:51. The cleaning crew will be in soon, though they haven’t made much of a mess besides whats on Sakura’s face and the sticky spot forming on the back of her skirt she doesn’t know about yet.

“Fuck,” she says first.

“Fuck,” he agrees and she twists around to look at him, enjoying the feeling of his fingers sliding against the fabric at her waist.

“So Temari _really_ has you fucking whipped, huh?” Shikamaru’s brow twitches in irritation but he’s relieved. She isn’t going to run or scream or call the FBI. She seems happy to razz him like always with his cum still drying on her cheeks. _Damn_ , he thinks again. _So fucking lucky_.

“You’re one to talk. She had you answering to cocksleeve in five minutes flat.” 

Sakura laughs. “Can I get up now or are you going to squirt another massive fucking load at me.”

“Both,” he scoffs and eases her up, thumbs tracing over the swell of her ass.

“Ummm.” Sakura readjusts her blouse and pushes some of her sweat curled hair behind her ear. “So what now?”

“I don’t know, I’d like a cigarette.” He tucks himself away, grinning at the wet patch she’s left on his thigh.

“Me too,” she scoffs, rounding the desk to gather her things. “I meant like-- we’re good?”

“Yeah, of course.” He scratches the back of his head. “I should be asking _you_ that. I should have told you--”

“No.” Sakura blushes and slips on her denim jacket. “I wouldn’t change a thing that was… fucking… _oof_.”

“Oofs right.” He grins. “Temari is really something.”

“I see why you guys get along so well-- you’re such an asshole of course you need someone who’ll put you in your place.”

“You’re next,” he says knowingly. He can only imagine what Temari will have planned by the time she finally gets her hands on Sakura. “Seriously, if it’s ever too much--”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll say the safe word. Don’t worry about me Shika.” She’s standing expectantly at the door. “C’mon, I need a cig and a drink and my face is all sticky.”

“She’s serious about not washing it off you know,” he says slyly as they wait for the elevator. “I’ll snitch. I want to see what she’ll do to you.” 

Shikamaru’s phone vibrates in his pocket As they wait for the elevator. _Glad we didn’t go with the receptionist ;)_ writes Temari. 

_You were fucking incredible, Lady T_ , he responds. _Leaving the office now. Thank you for my new toy._

“Shik.” Sakura’s tone is suddenly serious, and she’s chewing distractedly at a nail. He gulps as the movement summons the image of her suckling on the tip of his cock, lashes wet with tears as she moaned her allegiance to his girlfriend.

He gulps. “Yeah?”

“It really doesn’t bother you that Temari has other…. Playmates?”

He snorts. “There’s no way I could handle her any other way--- that was just a _taste_ of what she likes. And they’re less playmates than playthings.”

His phone vibrates again as the doors open.

_Of course, babe! u deserve it. also u have until the elevator hits the lobby to make her come :)_

Shikamaru grins and presses the ‘Close Door’ button. He turns the screen so Sakura can see the message and in the same movement, presses her against the wall with his free hand. She’s already shimmying her skirt up higher and pushing aside her soaking panties. Sakura laughs as his thumb finds her clit and he slides three fingers inside her. She’ll need to start stretching herself eventually. Preferably soon. 

She moans and flutters around his fingers as the elevator starts moving. He has 10 floors to make her scream and he has a feeling he’ll only need 3.

“So, no,” he growls, finishing a thought that needs no finishing now that he’s inside her. “I don’t mind at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. Another kinky rollercoaster back at the platform. Damn. Hope you all enjoyed it. I'd love if you'd drop the lines that really killed you in the comments :) it's my favorite type of comment and also Lady Temari demands it and I don't think you want to cross her soooooo


End file.
